


Need

by NyxErchomai



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Catholic Guilt, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Internalised Homophobia, M/M, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6367501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxErchomai/pseuds/NyxErchomai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt is a booty call. He struggles with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Need

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a few hours and read through it once.
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Matt is grappling with Frank when the energy shifts on the rooftop. It goes from aggressive unbridled fury to something... different. The energy is no less aggressive, but it's charged with an undercurrent that Matt can't put his finger on. It makes his skin feel hot and tight, especially at the points of contact between him and Frank. Frank's heartbeat, so steady before, is beginning to race, his breathing heavy. The way his hands grip Matt's shoulders is different, too — the aggression is there but it's not angry. It's almost... desperate. Matt's skin tingles as Frank's fingers scrape bluntly against the back of his neck, before he's thrown against the wall of the rooftop.

Frank is on him in an instant, before Matt can recover from the shock of hitting the wall; his hands everywhere. It takes him a few seconds of weak shoves to realize Frank isn't hurting him. Frank's touching him. He's almost frantically pushing against Matt, his hands pressing roughly against Matt's ribs, hips, anywhere that he can get to.  
"What—?"  
"Shut up!" Frank growls back. "Just shut up, Red."

The moniker burns a trail of heat down Matt's spine and, paired with the way Frank's fingers are curling at the back of his head, Matt is hit with the stark realization of what's happening.  
"Oh," he breathes, and he feels more than hears Frank's throaty noise. He wants to say something more, but Frank pulls him sharply forward and — _Oh_.

The kiss is heady, sending heat straight to Matt's dick. It might be the adrenaline — he prays that it's the adrenaline — and the heat of the fight that causes it and not Frank. Not this gruff, burly man who's hands are — _Ohhh_. His hands are at Matt's pants, palming him roughly, fingers cupping Matt's balls are twisting just right until Matt is panting.  
"S-stop," Matt breathes, hands pushing weakly against Frank's. "This...it's — wrong."  
"You fucking Catholics," Frank growls, and he does something that feels so good it forces Matt to lean heavily against the wall. "You and your fuckin' rules." His other hand is working at Matt's zipper, pushing the stiff fabric of the suit up around his sternum. Matt feels the sharp twinge of shame, but Frank slaps his hands away whenever he tries to cover himself.  
"Y'all think this is some kind of aberration, that it's unnatural," Frank snarls, and he's managed to shove Matt's pants down his thighs, exposing Matt's aching erection. "Well it ain't. This isn't about right or wrong, It's about need. Just two people fulfilling each other other's needs." He takes Matt's dick in his hand, strokes it languidly, and Matt can't help but gasp. "You need this, Red. You want this."

"N-no!" Matt gasps, guilt and shame battling the arousal that's setting fire to his nerves.

With a snarl, Frank spins Matt and slams him against the wall, pushing his weight against Matt's back. Matt tries to push back, straining, but Frank pins him thoroughly. Matt's dick is pressed against the rough of the wall, and he stops fighting just to alleviate the pressure. Frank relaxes too, but remains pressed firmly against Matt. His hand is at Matt's hip, a knee pressed between Matt's thighs, breathing heavily against Matt's nape. Calming down, Matt realizes he can feel the hardness of Frank's erection against the swell of his ass, and it makes his stomach churn even as his own dick grows harder. He isn't supposed to want this, and he's certainly not meant to act on it. But Frank is warm, and hard, and all the blood is filling Matt's dick and leaving his brain pretty bereft and - and Frank is touching him again, and all thoughts of guilt fall right out of Matt's brain.

"Shit..." he breathes as Frank reaches around and tugs lightly at Matt's cock, twisting at the top before dragging his hand down the length. As Matt looses a shaky breath, Frank leans forward and licks a hot stripe up Matt's neck, teeth grazing at Matt's earlobe. Matt's eyes roll back into his head, and his knees go weak. If it weren't for Frank's solid weight at his back, Matt knows he would have fallen to his knees. Frank's deep chuckle tells indicates that he knows it too.

Then Frank's weight is gone, and Matt is too overwhelmed to stop him as he turns him around and pushes him heavily to the ground. Matt's knees hit the concrete like bricks, but he figures the pain is what he deserves for letting any of this happen. And for shivering in anticipation for what he knows is next. Surely enough, Frank is going for his own zipper, fingers steady. But his heartbeat is elevated, and Matt can hear him taking measured breaths. _Frank wants him_ he realizes with a jolt and, defying belief, his dick gets even harder.

Frank's dick is in front of him; Matt can sense it's heat, it's weight, it's scent. His mouth fills with saliva even as he's recoiling. He can't do this, he thinks frantically. He's Catholic, it's wrong, he doesn't want this, he doesn't like men — his mind stills at that because, no, that's not entirely true. Of course it's not. But knowing a truth in the privacy of your mind is a lot different to acting upon that truth and here, with Frank's cock inches from his mouth, his erection straining in the cool air, it's too much. It's too real.

"It's okay," Frank says, his gruff voice soft. Matt jumps when Frank runs his thumb across his bottom lip, and his tongue darts out almost of its own accord. Frank tastes like gunpowder and sweat, blood and dirt. His thumb burns with heat. Matt leans into his touch for a moment, but pulls back too quickly. He hears Frank sigh. Frank fumbles for a moment, putting his dick back in his pants.  
"What will it take?" he asks after the pause, and Matt feels him crouch, before his hand grips Matt's neck like a vice. "C'mon Red, you want this. Just give in."  
"I can't," Matt replies hoarsely, wetting his lips. "It's - it's too much."  
Frank moves closer, until his forehead is nearly touching Matt's. "You're overthinking it, Red," he reaches forward and takes Matt's dick again. "Just... let me take care of it."

He brushes the leaking slit on the head of Matt's cock, and Matt bites back a groan.  
"Let it out," Frank bites out, stroking Matt's cock. "Moan for me, Red."  
And Matt does, moaning like a whore as Frank sets a demanding pace, jerking him off with almost callous efficiency. Forehead pressed to Matt's, knees touching, Frank brings Matt to the brink of orgasm quickly, and Matt is taking gasping breaths, tension coiling in his balls, fingers gouging trenches in his legs. He's so close, so close, and he's thrusting into Frank's fist without abandon, mind completely empty save for the need to come.  
"Sh-shit," he gasps, throwing his head back. Frank pulls it back roughly, curling his fingers around his neck..  
"Come for me," he hisses, speeding up slightly. "Come for me, Red."

And Matt does, coming so hard that his senses shut down. Every nerve in his body bursts into flame and extinguishes, leaving him loose-limbed and exhausted. For a few moments, his mind is blissfully empty.  
"It's okay, Red," Frank murmurs, still pressing his forehead against Matt's. "You're okay."  
The assurance absurdly brings tears to Matt's eyes, makes his throat burn. Guilt swirls with pleasure, shame mixes with arousal, and in that moment he wishes the blissful emptiness of an orgasm would last longer. And, sickeningly, he wants Frank to reassure him again.

But Frank is already standing, adjusting himself and clearing his throat. "See you 'round, Red," he says in that callous way of his, and then he's gone, leaving Matt alone with his guilt.

~*~*~

When Frank finds him again, Matt doesn't protest. He wants it, undeniably, and he chasing that post-orgasm mindlessness. It's wrong, but it's easier to push aside the guilt this time. He throws himself into it, relinquishes control in a way that terrifies him to his core, but Frank is there to pick up the pieces.

Frank crowds Matt against a wall again, holds him close as he leaves a trail of hickeys down Matt's neck, across his collarbone, Matt rests his head against the wall, focuses on his breathing as Frank's teeth graze his Adam's apple. They're a similar height, but Matt feels small in Frank's hold, dwarfed by the marine's broad shoulders and hard body. Frank has his hands splayed across Matt's back, just under his shoulder blades, pulling the masked vigilante to his chest. Matt has to arch his back, staring blankly at the sky with his head against the wall. Frank moves is hands to Matt's hips, pushing his shirt up and up and off, Matt twisting to get it off. There's a moment of quietness as Frank traces the lines of Matt's torso, brushing lightly over his scars. His skin burning, Matt shivers at the gentle touches. He is hard in his pants, almost painfully, and Frank's attentions are worsening the situation.

Writhing, Matt tries to get friction against Castle's hard thigh, but Frank chuckles and moves just far away enough to make it impossible.  
"Patience," he says with a smirk in his voice.  
Panting, Matt scowls, but says nothing. His protests are cut short when Frank dips his head and flicks his tongue over Matt's nipple. Matt gasps loudly, completely new to the sensation. It shoots electricity down to his very toes, and when Frank does it again Matt whines. He flushes deeply when he realizes, but Frank is smiling against his skin. Still smiling, he slides to his knees. Flushing deeper, Matt bites back a moan as Frank traces the line of his erection through his pants. Reaching up, Frank pulls Matt's pants down to his ankles in a swift motion. He's efficient, always, and he's got Matt's cock in hand before Matt can even think. He's still reeling from the turn of events when Frank leans forward and licks from the base to the head of Matt's cock. If Matt wasn't used to denying himself pleasure, he would have come then and there. As it is, he is forced to take deep, steadying breaths as Frank puts Matt's cockhead in his mouth and sucks gently. Groaning, Matt's eyes rolls back. He can feel Frank smirking as he swipes his tongue across the slit, before dipping his head and taking a good few inches deep into his mouth.

Mind blankly completely, Matt shudders deeply and groans gutturally. His hand shoots to Frank's head, fingers scraping against Frank's buzzcut. Frank hums, sending shocks of pleasure through Matt, and he thrusts sharply without thinking.

To his credit, Frank takes the assault without complaint; he simply puts his hands against Matt's hips and pushes them back against the wall. Shamefaced, Matt gasps out an apology. Frank bobs his head and hums again, and Matt takes that as a good sign. He promptly forgets about it when Frank takes him deeper, mouth hollowing as he sucks. He takes the remaining inches of Matt's dick in one hand and jerks him off in time with his bobbing movements, and uses the other to squeeze Matt's balls.

Matt feels the orgasm crashing in and pushes Frank away sharply. Frank sways to the side to avoid Matt's come, wiping his mouth.  
"Shit," Matt gasps, " _Shit_."

Frank chuckles throatily, sounding hoarse. Then he's standing, crowding Matt again. And Matt, feeling Frank's dick pressed against his, rapidly chubs up again. Frank kisses him roughly, and Matt can taste himself on Frank's tongue. Frank runs his hands down Matt's bare sides, nails catching slightly. There's a rough desperation to Frank's touch that goes straight to Matt's dick, and soon he's rolling his hips to generate delicious friction against the rough fabric of Frank's cargo pants. Frank allows it for a moment, but stills Matt's hips too soon. Matt makes a whiny pleading noise, and Frank laughs softly.

"I've got something better," he says softly, shrugging off his jacket and hitching his thumbs in the waistband of his pants. Matt's mouth goes dry as Frank shucks his pants, stepping out of them. He doesn't need to see to know that Frank is an imposing man, standing there in briefs and a thin undershirt. Then the undershirt is gone, and the briefs, and they're both naked and aroused on this rooftop. The dryness in Matt's mouth doesn't alleviate when Frank kisses him, but the marine's hand on his hip is warm and steady and Matt forces himself to relax. He wants this. Guilt rears its ugly head, and he shoves it back. _He wants this_. Emboldened, he returns the kiss with vigor. Frank makes a guttural noise and pushes Matt harder against the wall, spreading his legs with an insistent knee. Matt sighs and goes loose when Frank's thigh brushes against his throbbing dick, so Frank slowly drags his thigh across the sensitive skin again, biting Matt's lower lip when he groans.

"Fuck," Frank mutters hoarsely. "Wanna fuck you."  
The words thrill Matt as much as they terrify him, but he forces the fear down and presses himself against Frank. "Then fuck me," he says, the words foreign on his tongue.

It seems that's all the encouragement Frank needed; he turns Matt to face the wall, pulling his hips out far enough that Matt is nearly doubled over. He braces himself against the wall with his hands, pushing his ass out. It's wanton, a new concept for him, but Frank's appreciative noise fuels him. And when Frank spreads his ass apart, the shame Matt was expecting is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he is emboldened. He arches his back further, sending Frank a look he hopes is wanton; the way Frank's grip on his asscheeks tightens, it was.

He hears Frank spit, and stops himself from jerking away when Frank thumbs at his hole. It's different, and Matt feels stripped bare under the ministrations, but Frank is gentle enough. He pushes in slowly, stretching Matt around the digit. There's a dull ache, and Matt is mildly uncomfortable, but when Frank slowly drags the thumb out, Matt has to admit that it's not an unpleasant feeling. Frank's thick forefinger is next, and Matt is gasping and clenching around him before long. Its good — different, but definitely good, and he's begging for the second finger before long. Frank indulges, and then adds a third. It hurts then, aching sharply, but Frank runs a soothing hand down Matt's back and tells him it'll feel good soon. And it does; before long Matt is throwing himself back against Frank's fingers, biting back moans. The pleasure is building nicely, but Frank stills. 

"What-?" Matt begins to whine, but then he feels the hot blunt head of Frank's cock and he quiets. Frank slathers himself with more spit before aligning himself with Matt's hole.  
"Take a deep breath," he says gruffly. "Let it out, and relax."  
Matt obeys, and as soon as he relaxes Frank pushes in. He takes it slowly, moving and waiting, and Matt is grateful. It hurts, but the slow pace makes it bearable. Frank's dick isn't overly long, but it's thick; Matt feels impossibly stretched. It's a slow process, and Franks grunts indicate that he is exerting huge amounts of self control to take it so slowly. Matt begins moving slightly too soon, wanting to appease the marine, but his body is prepared for it and the pain doesn't last long.

Frank drags out fast enough, but sets a cruelly slow pace on the way back in; he pushes in almost languidly, bottoming out before pulling back out. It's delicious, stretching Matt amazingly, but it's not enough. He suffers through moments of torturously slow thrusts before he turns to glare at Frank.  
"Could you just _fuck me_?"  
Frank chuckles, dragging out slowly. He stills with just the head buried in Matt, and cocks his jaw arrogantly. "Beg for it, Red."  
Matt bristles, his pride rushing to the forefront. He won't beg. He _won't_. Frank must see the stubborn set of his jaw, because he shrugs and begins slowly pushing back into Matt. He's not gone even two inches before Matt is writhing, trying to push back against him. Frank's hands are firm on his hips though, stilling Matt's movements.  
"Fuck!" Matt yells in frustration. "Please!"  
Frank drapes himself across Matt's back, mouth grazing against Matt's shoulder. "Please what?" he whispers huskily.  
"Please," Matt says, voice breaking, " _please_ fuck me."

"You got it, Red," Frank says wryly, and his hips snap forward so fast and hard that Matt's knees nearly buckle. Tightening his grip on Matt's hips, Frank set a pace that is truly punishing. Matt's arms burn from stopping himself from slamming into the wall, and his hips are aching, but it's incredible. Frank pulls Matt's hips up, forcing him onto his toes, but the angle is deeper and — _fuck_. White hot pleasure burns through Matt's abdomen as Frank hits his prostate, again and again. Matt realizes that he's making clipped, high pitched noises of pleasure, and bites his lip.  
"No," Frank growls, snapping his hip forward so hard that Matt gasps. "Don't stop."  
Flushing slightly, Matt focuses on the bursts of pleasure in his ass, and throws himself against Frank's thrust with gusto. After a few moments, he's groaning with fervor. Frank is grunting behind him, and Matt's knows he'll have finger shaped bruises on his hips tomorrow.

Another minute of Frank's pace and Matt his beginning to lose strength in his knees. The pleasure is cooling in his belly, and sparks are shooting from him balls right through his entire body with increasing frequency. Sensing Matt's closeness, Frank reaches around and begins jerking him off, hard and fast. Within the minute, Matt is shooting strings of come across Frank's hand and all over the rooftop, groaning so loudly he's worried someone will hear.

Frank picks up his pace not long after, losing his rhythm as his orgasm hits him. He grunts, rolling his hips a few times, before pulling out. Matt winces, trying to ignore the feeling of come sliding down his thighs. By the time he's straightened and pulled up his pants, Frank has dressed.

"See ya, Red," he says shortly, hefting his duffle bag onto his shoulder and turning away.

Matt wants to stop him, is desperate for something, but there's nothing to say — and Frank is gone.


	2. Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt wants something more. He doesn't get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exploring this dynamic is super interesting but really hard to write, so take this for now.

Frank is fucking into Matt with an aggression that borders on cruel, but Matt can take it, wants to take it. His elbows are scraping on the rough concrete of this roof, pushed forward painfully by the force of Frank thrusts; but it’s a sweet pain and, paired with the white hot pulses of pleasure in his ass, he knows he’s going to come soon.

Then Frank is dragging him up, hooking his arms under Matt’s armpits and sitting up on his knees. Matt is forced to follow the movement, his legs spread to sit on the outside of Frank’s, his ass pressed against Frank’s lap; he groans as Frank’s dick pushes into him deeper than ever, sending a pulse of heat straight to Matt’s dick. He’s leaking profusely by now, and his dick is so hard it _hurts_ , but any time his hands stray Frank slaps them away and growls, “No touching.”

The pace Frank sets now is cruel. He takes a hold of Matt’s hips, and fucks into him unhurriedly, rolling his hips just enough to drag deliciously across Matt’s prostate. But it’s not enough, it’s never enough.

“Please, Frank,” he says, voice hoarse. “Fuck me, please, please…” Begging doesn’t turn his stomach as much anymore; his pride vanished around the same time he first got fucked on the rooftop by a murderer. Now, all he cares about is getting off and, if he has to beg to do it, then he will.

Frank doesn’t immediately oblige, grinds his hips against Matt’s ass and continues keeping his thrusts slow and short. It’s a display, Matt knows, a reminder that Frank is the one who calls the shots, and it burns him up inside. But, not enough to make him want to stop.

“ _Please_ ,” he bites out, almost panting from the unalleviated pressure in his dick. “I need – _fuck_.”

One of Frank’s hands makes a torturous journey to his dick, and when he squeezes it lightly at the base, it takes everything Matt’s got in him to stop from coming. But Frank’s thrusts are more measured now; he pulls back slowly and slams back in, using the hand still on Matt’s hip to slam him down against him.

Simultaneously, he begins dragging at Matt’s dick, stroking him with such a light touch it makes Matt want to scream. As it is, he groans through gritted teeth, tries to fuck his hips up into Frank’s hands. He gets one thrust in before Frank abandons his aching cock. Matt whimpers then, so wound up he could cry.

“I’m s-sorry,” he pants out, throwing his head back against Frank’s shoulder. “I won’t…it won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Frank says darkly, speaking for the first time since they started. “Try anything like that again and you won’t be coming at all,” he growls in Matt’s ear, fucking into him pointedly before stilling.

Panic overrides Matt’s senses. “No, no, please, please Frank, I won’t – please, no, keep fucking me, _please_ –”

And then Frank obliges, shoving Matt forward gracelessly, pushing him down until Matt’s chest and face are pushing into the concrete, his mask stopping the roughness from wrecking most of his face. He’ll have a nice rash across his jaw though, and across his chest, but if Frank keeps fucking him like that he’ll take it. He’ll take anything.

The new angle, with Matt’s ass high in the air, is incredible. Frank holds him down for another second, and then draws his hand down Matt’s back, his nails scraping sweetly against the collection of scars Matt has acquired over the years. He slaps Matt’s ass once, twice, making him gasp and writhe, and then reaches around and begins jerking Matt off in earnest.

They come almost together, Matt’s orgasm crashing in on him just seconds before Frank’s does. Matt can feel Frank’s dick twitching inside him, throbbing as he unloads. When Frank pulls out, Matt is too weak to keep himself propped up, and simply drops his hips. The concrete is cool, if uncomfortable, but Matt doesn’t mind. What’s a bit of discomfort after sinning?

He can hear Frank dressing, can hear him yank on his pants and shrug on his jacket and he can tell that Frank never once looks at him. For a moment, he’s okay with that. He’s (save for the mask) naked, used and oozing on the rooftop. _Like a used condom_ , he thinks suddenly, and the analogy makes him sick. It’s then he wishes that Frank would acknowledge him, spare him one thought after using him.

“Frank,” he murmurs, pushing himself up onto his knees. But he doesn’t know what he wants to say, doesn’t know how to say it, and after a punctuated silence, he sighs and waves his hand. “Never mind,” he says, bitterly.

Frank leaves without hesitation, and Matt is left to clean himself up, dress and go home. When he lies in his bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling, he lets a few tears out. Its guilt, he tells himself, guilt and shame for losing control, for letting himself be used that way. But when he goes to sleep, he dreams that Frank stays, just once. And in the dream, he’s happy.

~*~*~


End file.
